We Are Both
by alli524
Summary: Sleeping Warrior AU. Mulan and Aurora are in a relationship together in Storybrooke. When the curse is broken, Aurora remembers Phillip and has to decide which love to pursue. Possible Philora. Working off of an anonymous prompt from Tumblr.
1. A Room With Too Many People

**A/N: Told mostly from Aurora's POV, but occasionally from Mulan.**  
**Also, the story begins with Storybrooke names; Aurora is Briar Rose and Mulan is called Jia Li, although they revert back to their usual names when the curse breaks.**  
**I hope that's not too confusing and that this story actually makes sense.  
**

* * *

_I get wanting to leave here, I do. And I get that it's easier to let go of bad memories, but even bad memories are part of us (...)  
My weaknesses and my strengths, I am both.  
Just like you. You are both. The town is both. We are both._

_- _David Nolan/Prince Charming

* * *

**_Chapter 1:_**_ **A Room With Too Many People**_

_Mulan_

When I'd woken up that morning, I was called Jia Li.  
She was called Briar Rose.  
She loved sweet tea and put too many spices in her meals. Her favourite colour was purple and she liked it when I wore my hair down.  
She always woke up before me and made me toast. The jam she used was homemade from the berries that grew in our garden.  
_Her_ garden.  
She was so proud of it. She was good at getting things to grow. I, being the rough policewoman that I was, never really had a good hand for growing. But I'd never needed to have a green thumb; the garden was hers and she loved it. I just picked the tomatoes when it was time and got reprimanded for removing them from the wrong places.  
I couldn't remember how we met or where or when. All I knew was that we were.  
We were Jia and Briar. Briar and Jia.  
And we were happy.  
We were in love.

We were both home when it broke.

I should have been at work because Emma had taken the day off, but instead I was painting in the spare room.  
Well, I was trying to, anyway.  
I was experiencing what Briar called a 'brain snag'.  
The canvas sat in front of me, crisp and white. I'd been staring at it for three hours and had considered tearing holes in it just so I would have something different to look at.  
Painting was one of the only things that brought out my impatience. Briar often refered to me as stoic and calm, and loved seeing me fired up about something.  
It was a way to vent out my frustrations, but sometimes it became my frustration.  
Briar called that my 'painting paradox'.  
She had a name for every stupid little feeling or thought. She thought that naming things helped you cope with them better; if knew what you were feeling then you could deal with it better.  
She didn't have a name for what we were going to feel next.

Briar worked as a seamstress in Storybrooke. Her hours were short and she was home before four that day.  
She'd walked in and kissed the back of my head, very gently. She was aware that interrupting me while I was on the brink of an idea was potentially dangerous for my process.  
When I leaned back so she could kiss me properly, she knew that I wasn't on the brink of anything.

"No ideas yet?" she asked, placing a warm hand on my back.

"Absolutely none," I sighed, leaning back in my seat.

She laughed and kissed me again, leaving the room.  
I heard her tread down the hallway and then I heard clattering in the kitchen. It seemed too early, but she must have been preparing dinner.

I don't know how long I was staring at that canvas before it happened. It must have only been minutes.  
It felt like a rush of air; not heavy, but strong enough to whip my ponytail up, off of my back.  
I heard a crash come from the kitchen and thought that I should check on Briar when the headache set in.  
My brain felt like it was trying to pass through the head of a needle; a room with too many people. I shut my eyes tight as I felt the weight of memories that didn't belong to me rush into my body.  
It only took a split second, but it felt like I might be crushed under the load.  
And then the room came right again and I gazed back at the empty canvas.

"Briar," I said, rising to find her.  
_Aurora_, I thought, shaking my head.

When I'd gotten into the kitchen, Briar was on the ground, her eyes closed, the heavy crock pot on the ground near her.  
I looked from my girlfriend, to the chipped ceramic pot and realised that she must have been removing it from the high cupboard when the wind had come.

_When the curse broke_.

"Briar?" I asked, taking her hand, "Can you hear me?"

There was no response. I laid her down a little straighter and lifted her head, seeing if she might wake if I cleared her airway.  
She was still breathing.

"Briar?"

The beautiful auburn girl stirred, squeezing my hand. I grinned and gripped at her in reply.  
Her eyes opened leisurely and stayed unfocused for a second.

"Phillip?" she asked softly.


	2. The Same or Different?

**_Chapter 2:_****_ The Same or Different?_**

_Aurora_

I realised my mistake sooner than it came out of my mouth, but the name still hung in the air like a bad smell.

"Jia," I breathed, sitting up a little too quickly.

"You might have a concussion," she said, "Stay down."

Her voice sounded robotic and clinical. Cold. She placed a hand over my head and it chilled me.  
Her temperature had always been suspiciously low; she got cold too easily and never seemed to feel the warmth. Not like Phillip, who kept me annoyingly warm in the Summer, who I had to kick out of the bed because it got too hot.  
_Phillip_.  
How much of that had been a dream?  
Or was this the dream?  
I glanced around the room, trying to ignore the dark spots that were forming and bursting in front of my eyes.  
I was still in the kitchen, making an early dinner, just like I'd remembered. The brown crock pot was lying next to me; a shard was missing out of it.  
Jia had pulled her hand away.  
_Mulan._

Was I going crazy?  
People don't have previous lives. Phillip didn't exist.  
And yet, I felt him. I had a clear memory of waking up from the curse of sleep to his face. Memories as clear as making breakfast this morning for Jia.  
_Mulan_.

There is no such thing as a curse, I thought to myself, Oh God, I'm really losing it.

I brought myself up slowly, trying to make my way to my feet.

"Don't push yourself, Aurora."

"I won't."

Using the counter, I lifted myself to my feet. But then, realising what Jia had just called me, I felt them give way underneath me.  
She caught me. She always did. Her arms felt stiff. It wasn't a hug or an embrace.  
There was no love in the way that she was holding me.  
She was merely stopping me from hitting the floor.

"Mulan?" I asked slowly. The dark spots in my eyes were forming faster than they were popping and disappearing.  
Soon, they swam in front of me until they were all I could see.  
They clouded my eyes and spread to my head until I sank into the darkness and I couldn't feel the arms around me anymore.

* * *

I woke in a hospital bed. I felt exhausted and disoriented, hoping that it was all a dream but knowing that it wasn't.  
But then which life did I want to wish away?  
I cringed against the decision and raised both hands to my face, wishing to disappear and dissolve into the mess that had become my life.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," Dr Whale laughed at his own joke.

I thought up many colourful responses and gagged on the best one, bile rising to my throat.  
Whale produced a cardboard vomit pan, seemingly out of nowhere, so I could throw up in it and I felt my hate for him lessen slightly.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked once I had finished, wiping my mouth.

"You have a pretty severe concussion," he explained, "You should be better in the next twenty-four hours; we'll need to keep you here for observation."

My head burned with more questions and Mother Superior must have sensed it, because after Whale left to dispose of the pan, she entered the room with a glass of water.

"She dropped you off," the Blue Fairy said simply, "And left shortly after."

"Mulan?"

She nodded, watching me carefully. Blue and I had known each other in Fairytale Land; she'd been the one to place the true love's kiss clause into the curse after Maleficent had placed her evil magic over me.

"You remember everything, then?" Blue asked slowly, noting my use of Jia's new name. Well... old name.

"I think so," I said, biting my lip.

"Emma broke the curse," she explained, "Right here in the hospital when she kissed her son. Broke the curse with the power of true love."

"Did Mulan say where she went?" I asked, less interested in the curse than my girlf-... than my friend.

She shook her head.

"She's different now," she said slowly, "Or... the same?"

"Please," I said sadly, "My head is pounding and I don't have the energy for riddles."

"I knew Mulan," she said, "When she lived in the enchanted forest. And I knew Jia. They are different people; Jia was more confident, quicker to laugh... happier. And I fear that she is lost now. She has reverted back to being Mulan."

"Mulan was a great woman," I said defensively.

"She was," Blue responded quickly, "She was great. But she wasn't happy."

I leaned back in the scratchy hospital bed.

"It's not my job to make her happy," I said, glancing around the empty room sadly, "Not anymore."

It was true and it hurt.  
Jia was mine.  
It was my job to make her laugh and smile and paint and plant.  
But Mulan didn't belong to me. Her heart was her own.

And mine felt like it was being torn in three different directions.  
Pieces of it were pulled toward Jia, parts ached for Phillip. And right in the centre, there was a bit of me that wanted to stay in the hospital bed forever, never making a decision.  
I'd never thought that I would be in a situation where falling asleep and never waking up for be the preferable choice.  
Yet there I was.

The Blue Fairy sighed and handed me a piece of paper; my food choices for dinner and tomorrow's breakfast.  
I broke down reading the breakfast list and ticked 'toast', handing the form back.  
The Blue Fairy stood and exited the room quietly, leaving me to sob into the scratchy blanket in peace.


	3. The Red Line

_**Chapter 3**__**: The Red Line**_

_Aurora_

The town was chaotic; the streets were full and loud. Everyone was searching for someone or arguing about something.  
Powerlines had been tipped and the ground caved in, in places. Something about a Wraith.  
I was barely paying attention.  
I had been released from the Hospital but wasn't ready to go home. Not yet.

Where was home, anyway?

I found myself following the masses to the park. There, I saw Red struggling with a bundle of blankets.

"Let me help," I said, taking half of the stack from her.

"Thank you," she said, "It's chaos here."

I followed her to one of the stalls they'd set up and placed them down.

"What's happening here?" I asked.

"They're calling it the 'Crisis Centre'," she said, "We're setting up stalls for people who need help; people who are now homeless or need counselling or are searching for someone."

My heart caught in my throat.  
_Phillip_.  
It suddenly occurred to me that he might be looking for me. And I wasn't ready for him to find me.  
I glanced around the park, madly searching for Mulan.  
When I couldn't see either of them, I relaxed.  
I wasn't ready for either of the conversations I would have to have.

And Perhaps Phillip had found a new life, as I had.

There was noise coming from the centre of the park. I used it as a distraction so I could slip away unnoticed, but I still heard Leroy's gruff voice above the commotion.

"If it did would I have come running in yelling 'terrible news'?!" he shouted, "If we leave, our curse selves become our only selves."

With that, I snuck away, leaving the panicked whispers behind me.

I went for a walk, following my feet instead of my head or my heart.  
I walked for a long time until I came to a stop.  
I'd found myself at the edge of the town.  
The dwarves had painted a thick, red line at the exit.

All I had to do was take a step and the choice would be made.  
I would be Briar.  
It would be easy.  
I swayed, feeling dizzy again, and felt that I might faint across the border and that would be that.  
Then I realised that I was holding my breath. I inhaled deeply and felt the oxygen flush to my brain.

I took a step back, away from the line, realising that it wouldn't be easy to step over the line at all.

* * *

When I got home, Red was waiting for me on the porch. She saw me approaching and patted the space beside her.  
I sat down on the step obediently and she slung an arm around me.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Fine," I lied.

"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," she said, "I didn't even _think_ of what you were going through until the conversation about 'separate selves' started at the park and it occurred to me that you didn't just have two separate lives, you had two _loves."_

"Don't feel bad," I said as she swept me up into an awkward, sideways hug, "There's so much going on right now; my issues aren't even a drop in the ocean."

"But you're my friend," she said into my hair, "I should have thought of you."

I shook my head and pulled away, insisting that I was fine.

"Have you spoken to either of them?" she asked.

"Mulan took off somewhere after the curse and I haven't seen Phillip at all," I explained, "I don't even know if he's in this world. I might not _have_ a decision to make."

"You definitely have a decision," Red said kindly, "There's no getting out of that. You have to talk to them."

"I don't think I'll be ready to speak with either of them until I sort my head out."

She nodded.

"How are you anyway, Red? How are the two lives treating _you?_"

"They're giving me a headache," she laughed, "But I'm doing great, really."

"And it looks like you've got a lot going on."

"Yeah," she said, "the wraith and the missing loved ones are keeping me pretty busy. You could help out if you need a distraction; there's lots to do."

"I would _love_ to," I said truthfully, "But I'd rather not risk the chance of running into... you know."

Red nodded.

I stood and stretched and she copied.

"Thank you for worrying about me," I said, throwing my arms around her.

"Any time," she laughed.

I turned away from Red and waited for her to leave the street completely before I opened the front door as slowly as I could, trying not to make a noise in case Mulan was home.

One look at the kitchen told me that she wasn't.

The crock pot still sat on the floor, the shard still meters away from it.

Had Mulan been home, she would have tidied it up.  
I sunk to the ground, confused by the disappointment I felt that I wouldn't be seeing her.  
I picked up the pieces of ceramic and placed them on the kitchen counter, wrapping them in newspaper before disposing of them.  
I did the dishes and brushed down the counter before picking up a knife and going outside.

The zucchinis had turned into marrows overnight. I sighed and severed them from the plant, calculating how many meals-for-one I could make out of these swollen vegetables.  
The celery leaves were looking dry already because I'd neglected them over the last few days.  
I filled my watering can and returned to the plants, helping the dry soil.

"I hoped I would find you here," I heard a familiar voice behind me say.


	4. Charlie

_**Chapter 4: Charlie**_

_Aurora_

I was promised to Phillip when I was still a child and made an immediate decision to hate him.  
I was eleven years old when my parents explained the situation; using hefty words like 'duty', 'sacrifice' and 'family' - words that seemed like I might crush under the weight but I held strong and I agreed.  
But I made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn't like it.  
I would never make his dinner or choose his outfits, tend to his hurts, or ask about his day.

On the day that we were to meet, my mother prepared her favourite dress of mine.  
It was green, to match my eyes and set off my hair.  
It was equal parts poofy and ridiculous, with a collar full of gems that my hair kept getting caught on.  
I pulled myself into the dress and sat still as a statue while the helpers set my hair in the tightest curls.  
One look at Phillip told me that his mother had dressed him, too.  
His suit was a little too big, with tails and a collar that was so elaborate that his bow tie was lost somewhere in the ruffles and I didn't notice it for hours.

"You look as uncomfortable as I feel," were the first words he said to me, through a grin.

I was stiff and unfriendly. In my eyes, he was the person who was taking away my right to choose; my freedom.  
He was warm and welcomed me to his house, ignoring the hatred that he could no doubt feel radiating from my skin. In his eyes, we were going to be together forever so we may as well find things to like about each other.

He lead me to the lavish, over the top park that they called their backyard, and we sat in a house atop a tree.  
It was a difficult climb in my dress, but I didn't want to look weak or girly in his presence, so I made my way up the trunk, even faster than he did.  
We sat up there for hours and, despite myself, I felt him winning me over.

He was funny and kind and he let me choose all of the games but never purposely let me win.  
He treated me well, but never made me feel weak or incapable of looking after myself.  
I had always known myself to be a stubborn, difficult person with a difficult line that he walked with ease.  
It felt like he knew me; like he knew how to treat me.  
I would later find out that that was just the way he was - empathetic and thoughtful. He adjusted to every personality that surrounded him and knew how to make them happy.  
He liked to make people happy.  
And he never failed to.

When we were called in for lunch, he must have seen the look on my face as I looked down at the climb I would have to undertake, yet again.  
He insisted that we swap our clothing and we went back to the palace, he in my green dress, and me swamped in his five piece suit.  
The looks on our parents' faces set us off, and as we fell into fit of giggles and laughed until our parents' scowls couldn't reach us, I could feel my resistance falling away.

Years later, when we were finally wed, I loved Phillip with all of my soul.  
It was a still, deep love that came quickly and so naturally.  
It had felt like I existed only to love him.  
It now seemed absurd that any curse could have ever made me forget him and how much and how deeply I had cared for him.  
But Regina had managed what I had thought impossible.  
And for twenty-eight years, I lived in the arms of another.

I had lived in the arms of my best friend.  
Of _his _best friend.

I was in the backyard, tending to the celery, when I heard his voice for the first time in almost three decades.

"I hoped I would find you here."

I wanted to move. I wanted to hold him, to push him away, I wasn't sure.  
It didn't matter, anyway, because I couldn't budge.  
He placed a hand on my shoulder and my skin burned where he touched it.

"Phillip," the name tumbled out of my mouth like a breath more than a word.  
There was a time when I would exhale his name like it was all I knew how to do; like my body was so full of love that his name would fall from my lips when I would sigh.  
Now, it sounded like a gasp. Like the ragged, dying breath of the most terrible person.  
It sounded like guilt and betrayal.

His hand moved to my face and he squatted down next to me. I remember thinking how absurd this whole situation was; that the love of my past life was here, in my garden, crouching over the celery with me.  
I rose to my feet and he came with me, his hand never leaving my face.

He wrapped himself around me, and I felt like I might disappear in his arms.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into his shoulder.

"It's okay."

I closed my eyes tight and felt such large tides of love and fondness washing over me. How could I ever have forgotten him?

"How did you find me?" I asked.

Phillip pulled away and gave me a look that I couldn't place.

"You don't remember me?" he asked. He sounded hurt, disappointed and confused.

"Of course I do, Phillip, don't be absurd-"

"Not Phillip," he cut me off, "I saw you after that... when I was Charlie."


	5. Closed Lines of Communication

_**Chapter 5: Closed Lines of Communication**_

_Mulan_

I lifted my wrist to my hand and pressed the button on my watch, waiting for the beep.  
I looked down at the time.

_2:27:09_

I didn't know how far I'd run, but it had taken almost two and a half hours.  
My lips felt sore and dry from keeping my mouth open against the wind for too long. I licked my lips to moisten them but it only made the ache worse.  
My feet were throbbing in my shoes that suddenly felt too tight against my toes.  
There was a stabbing pain in my stomach from the stitch that I'd developed after the first forty minutes and had decided not to acknowledge.  
I felt horrible.  
I'd made it a habit to push myself too hard lately.  
I climbed the stairs up to the apartment slowly and, out of habit, knocked.

"You don't have to knock when you're staying here," Emma was saying, yanking the door open immediately.

"Sorry," I panted.

"You look awful."

"Sorry," I repeated.

After dropping Aurora at the hospital, I'd gone down to the station, with the idea of staying there.  
Emma had taken me in, instead, insisting that it would be no problem and that Mary Margaret was staying with David, anyway.

"Have you been running this whole time?" she asked.

Unable to reply through my ragged breaths, I shook my head, lying.  
Emma took a wary look at me and held her breath. I knew what she was about to ask but I couldn't stop her in time.

"Have you... been to see her yet?"

I shook my head again. I'd noticed that after the curse broke, Emma was much more cautious about using names. She only ever referred to me as 'Oi' or 'You' and everyone else was 'he' or 'she' and I had to take an educated guess as to which person she was talking about.  
She seemed very shaken by the whole event and I could understand how.  
She'd gone from having a very normal life to suddenly being thrown into a magical mess. In that way we were the same, I guess. I shared her distress.  
We were probably the wrong pairing; the wrong people to go through this experience together.  
Neither of us were very open and sharing types. We could go hours without speaking.  
I think that's why we liked each other so much.

And maybe, also, why both of us seemed like we weren't coping very well. No one was here to push us to share or work through anything.  
Emma was keeping her head down and throwing herself into rebuilding the town and I had taken up rigorous exercise.  
And we were both throwing ourselves into work.

Through our combined efforts, crime in Storybrooke had gone down overnight.  
There was a lot of power to be had through ignoring your head and your heart. All of the energy that we had and should have been using working through our problems was being thrown at the town and into our police work.

"Do you think that maybe... you should? See her, I mean?"

It seemed that Emma had been visited by her parents that day.  
They were a very sharing couple, who believed that open lines of communication could cure many things.

"Why?" my breathing was returning to me, "Are you ready for me to move out?"

"No, no, no," she backtracked, "I just... well Mary Margaret was saying... oh, never mind."

It seemed that my hunch had been correct. She had been speaking with her mother.

"I can leave if that's the issue," I said, "You've been very hospitable, I owe you plenty already."

"No," she insisted, "That's not what I was saying you just seem... different since you've moved in."

"I _am_ different," I explained, "I'm not Jia, anymore, Emma. I have a whole different set of memories. That changes someone."

"Did... oh man, did _Mulan," _Emma winced, she hated using our names, "not speak to Br- to Aurora?"

"Yes," I said, "We spoke. In fact, we were close friends."

"Then why are you ignoring her? Why have you left without saying anything?"

The look I gave her must have been unkind because she raised her hands in surrender and shrugged.

"Okay," she said, "Not my business."

In fact, I _wanted_ to speak to Aurora, but I was confused about the whole situation and what I was meant to do.  
It was my understanding that the curse was meant to strip everyone of their happy endings so _why_ had my alternate life been _so happy_?  
It occurred to me that perhaps our alternate life was a punishment to Phillip or even perhaps to Aurora who had maybe been secretly unhappy during all of our years together. Either way, I thought that I should just stay away for a while and allow them to sort themselves out.  
Aurora and Phillip had surely found each other by now.  
The heart has a way of finding who and what it needs.

I couldn't help feeling like _this_ world was the curse for me and maybe Emma hadn't broken anything, but had ensured that I would live out a life of misery with neither the girl that I had fallen in love with, or my best friend who had fought alongside me in many battles.  
I felt conflicted and terrible.  
Like I had somehow, unwillingly, betrayed both of my closest friends.

"I'm going to have a shower," I mumbled miserably, leaving Emma to the kitchen alone.


	6. Meeting the Girl Called Briar

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews so far, guys! Particularly people who have been leaving suggestions, they've been really helpful in planning out how I want the story to go :)  
****K so... this one starts off as kind of a flashback and then goes back to where we left Phillip and Aurora in the garden.**

**sidenote: does anybody know when aurora and mulan are coming back? because I remember hearing about an eleven episode arc and I am like aching for it. gimmeeeeeeeeeeeee**

* * *

_**Chapter **__**6:**__** Meeting the Girl Called Briar**_

_Phillip_

It happened on the morning after Emma Swan had decided to stay in town; after the clock had started moving and the curse had started coming apart at the seams.  
The call had come in shortly after nine, when I was the only one in the office.

"Fire department?"

"Yes, hello," I had answered, "this is Charlie, who am I speaking with?"

"My kitchen is on fire."

Her tone of voice was strange; almost calm. I paused for a second to make sure than I had heard her correctly.

"Are you still in the house?"

"Yes; it's only a little on fire," the girl sounded so indifferent that I considered the theory that it may have been some kind of prank.

"It's important that you get out of the house and stay out," I said, maintaining a serious tone, as I had been taught in the academy.

"No; it's not that bad. Can you send someone, please?"

I was used to calming people down in these events; getting people who were manic and raving down to a state where they could take instructions. This girl was as calm as she was defiant.  
I raised the alarm and got the address from her, assuring her that help was on its way.  
The area was suddenly full of people pulling themselves into fireproof suits and Jean, who had returned from her break, was back in the office. I handed her the phone roughly.

"Stay on the line with her until she gets help," I instructed, bolting out of the door to my own suit.

I barely made it and had to sprint after the truck, throwing myself into the vehicle. The other firefighters would later laugh about this; about my inability to let other people do their job without me. They would make jokes about my apparent addiction to saving people.  
The others had trouble spotting the right home; it wasn't immediately obvious that the house was on fire.  
There was so little smoke that there could have just been a small chimney fire.  
Before even the smoke, what I noticed was the girl on the front lawn, turned away from us, with the phone to her ear.  
We rushed in and took down the fire in minutes. Apart from the kitchen, there was very little damage to the property.  
I found the girl on the lawn still, thanking others in the fire department, when she turned and I saw her for the first time.

She was, in the literal sense of the word, breathtaking.  
The very look of her dizzied and winded me.  
She made me feel nervous, as if under attack. I bowed my head and walked quickly, avoiding her eye.

* * *

When she walked into Granny's later, while I was having a drink, I thought I might have a panic attack.

"You've really lost your head about this girl, haven't you?" Sean asked later with a smirk.

"There's something about her," I said, "Something almost..."

I cut myself off, not wanting to say the word '_magical' _in front of his friends. I tried to keep my eyes off of her but they felt magnetised.

"Why don't you just go over and see her?" Keith asked, frowning, "Ask her if she wants a drink."

I sighed and shrugged. I'd never really been interested in a girl before; not like this. I wasn't sure if I _could_ just go over and speak to her.  
Sean, being the youngest and most immature of us, turned to Keith with a smirk.

"What was her name again?"

"Briar something," Keith replied.

"Briar!" Sean yelled, waving.

The girl looked up from her table and frowned, trying to recognise the boy.

"She doesn't know who you are," I hissed, "You weren't even _at_ her house today."

"I was," Keith said, turning to join in, waving.

Briar Rose must have recognised him because she broke out into a smile.

"Oh, hello!" she waved back.

Keith nudged me hard, whispering into my ear, "Go and talk to her before I invite her over."

I sighed and stood, shuffling over to her table before I lost the nerve that had just been forced on me.

"Hi," I said, uncomfortable.

"Hi," she smiled.

I must have looked awkward, because she invited me to sit down while she waited for someone.

"No," I said, "I don't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry," she said, "I'm early; keep me company."

I sat and she frowned at me, cocking her head to the side.

"It was you I spoke to on the phone, wasn't it?"

I nodded slowly.

"I thought so; I recognise your accent," she said, "I was so worried and you really calmed me down; thank you."

She placed a hand over mine. Her touch was cool, but I could feel my skin burn under it.  
There was something almost instinctual in my need to reach over and kiss her.  
I didn't want to scare her away so I pursed my lips and took my arm away.

"How is your kitchen?" I asked.

"Okay," she sighed, "It needs a little work so I have to stay upstairs at Ruby's for a little while (You know 'Granny'? Who runs this diner? Ruby is her granddaughter)," she explained in an undertone, "while they mend the small hole in the wall I created while I was trying to fry some bacon."

"Oh," I inhaled sharply, mockingly, "Bacon is a very dangerous food to cook."

"Exactly," she laughed, "No one ever warned me about the dangers of spitting bacon fat."

"You should have asked me about it _before _you cooked part of your house."

Her laugh was musical, and familiar in the same way that I might remember a song that my mother played when I was a baby.  
I glanced down at her hand and saw a ring.  
I could feel my heart sinking in my chest.

"Are you married?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Almost," she bit her lip, "It should be legal in Maine by December next year so..."

"It's a lovely ring," I said, trying to decode what she had just told me.

"Thanks," she broke out into a grin and twisted the ring around her finger, "My fiance chose it. It's an Alexandrite; it changes colour depending on the light."

It looked purply under the diner lights.

"Speak of the devil," she said and I watched in pain as her face lit up.

I turned to see her fiance and was faced with a girl with long, dark hair.

_Oh_, I thought, '_Almost' married... of course._

I stood quickly, moving out of the way for the girl. Briar stood and gave the girl a quick peck before sitting down again.

"Jia, this is Charlie, the fireman; he was there today when I set the kitchen on fire," she explained, "Charlie, this is Jia; my fiance."

I nodded and smiled in greeting, feeling my chest tighten.  
I found it odd that I could feel so much loss for this girl that I had only ever seen once before.  
Of course, it all made sense when the curse broke and my memory came back.  
I didn't realise it at the time, but I was watching my true love with another. It was a pain that I had never felt before and that I had found terribly difficult to explain.  
I made an excuse and left quickly, leaving behind Sean and Keith.  
I thought about her often afterward, no matter how much I tried to distract myself; it wasn't healthy to be weirdly obsessed with a girl who you knew very little about besides the fact that she was engaged.  
But once the curse broke, I convinced myself that the connection I had felt was mutual; Aurora really had felt that electricity.  
I told myself that it was fate that I was the only one on duty the day that she had called the firestation, that it was even fate that had caused the bacon to spit and catch fire.  
I read into the way that she had casually draped her arm across the table to touch my hand.  
I read into the way that she had laughed at my lame joke.  
Once the curse broke, I dug into my memory and read into every second of that seven minute encounter and finally decided that Aurora must have known it was me. She _must_ have remembered me, too.

I hadn't expected that she would have no idea who I was.

"Charlie?" she asked, her face falling, "I don't..."

"Do you remember the fire?" I asked, pointing back at the kitchen.

"Charlie," she sighed, recognition dawning in her face. She raised her eyes up to mine and I saw that they were full of tears, "The fireman. We talked at Granny's."

She was nodding, her head falling back down until she was looking down at her shoes.

"_How_ did I not remember you?" she was crying.

I took a step back.

"I thought you would have been expecting me," I said, feeling disappointed. This reunion had not gone at all how I'd hoped.

"I _was_," she said, "I was expecting that you'd find me. Eventually."

"Eventually?" I asked, confused, "Why not... immediately?"

"I don't..." she sighed and wrapped her own arms around her. I wanted so badly to hug her. She looked so small and defenseless, though I knew that would never be the case for Aurora. But to be honest, I was mad. I was angry that she hadn't recognised me as I had noticed her.  
I suddenly had a suspicion that perhaps she didn't remember me because she had actually _been happy_. And what a crazy concept that was; that my true love could have found happiness outside of me, when I had lived a life that was so lonely and so miserable.

"You love her," I said finally.

Her arms closed tighter around herself and she took a few breaths before she finally nodded.  
I took a slow breath, looking away.  
I couldn't blame her for any of this. Clearly, none of it was her fault.  
But, strangely, I couldn't forgive her.  
But above all of this, I couldn't fight the need I felt to wrap myself around her and tell her that everything was okay.  
I took a step forward and she shook her head, stumbling backward.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, hugging herself even more firmly. It was starting to look as if she was trying, literally, to hold herself together.

There was a time when I could have taken her into my arms. I could have kissed her hair and told her that everything would be okay and she would believe me. I looked at her, wrapped in herself, and felt my heart shatter.  
This girl wasn't my Aurora. Just as I wasn't Phillip anymore; not _truly_. We'd lived seperate lives for too long to be the same people.  
And I couldn't fix her, not like I used to, because I just didn't know her anymore.  
All I knew was that I loved her more than my own life, and that there was nothing that I could do to stop her from hurting.

"I'm sorry," I echoed her.

She was beyond me; my voice didn't even seem to reach her.  
I leaned over and placed a firm kiss on her forehead.  
I took one final look at my strong, sweet, defiant princess before I turned and left.


	7. Ashes and Wine

**A/N: I already PMd Zardor but if anyone else was wondering, nope Aurora's not pregnant in this fic because the timeline's different in that respect.  
Mulan gets a little drunk in this chapter so... alcohol TW, I guess?  
Title comes from the song Ashes and Wine by A Fine Frenzy. It's a song about asking if it's possible to salvage a relationship, or if it's past that point (turned to ashes and wine), which I felt fit the following chapters, even if the words don't really apply to their respective parts.**

**_Chapter 7:_****_ Part 1 - Ashes_**

_Mulan_

The back door was unlocked. I wasn't surprised because Briar rarely ever locked the thing because she often forgot or lost her keys. I don't know why we ever even had keys.  
I pushed it open slowly and quietly, peeking in.

I'd purposely chosen a time when I knew that Aurora would be at work, but I thought that I should be careful, anyway.  
I didn't want to run the risk of running into her.  
Surely Phillip would have found her by now and they would be playing happy endings and I didn't want to get in the way of that and make it awkward. I'd done enough damage to their relationship, even if I had been under a curse at the time.  
I entered slowly, knocking gently, just so I could say that I did.  
The house had been kept surprisingly tidy under Aurora's care. She had always been more likely to leave dishes out and clothes on the floor.  
It had always driven me crazy.

I took a quick glance in each room, treading lightly, ensuring that no one was home.  
Then I returned to the bedroom, throwing my bag onto the bed and diving into the wardrobe.  
My eyes caught on the frame that sat atop the dresser and I stopped, turning.

_She still keeps our_ _photo._

I sighed and flew over to the drawer, lifting the picture gingerly.  
The frame had been one that I'd bought for Aurora from Mr Gold's pawn shop. I'd polished it for hours over days until it twinkled and then I'd had it engraved.  
I rolled the frame over and looked at the back.

_If grass can grow through cement..._

It was a Cher quote and it meant, to me, that something beautiful and unexpected could come out of something rigid and unyielding; that Briar could draw love out of even me. It was probably the most romantic thing I'd ever done for her - I wasn't big on flowers and chocolate, even though I knew that Briar loved that kind of stuff. I'd tried it a few times, but it seemed an ill fit.  
Like I was forcing it.  
So instead I polished a frame and got a cryptic quote on the back from someone unexpected and slightly ridiculous and that was the kind of love that I was comfortable expressing - hidden in the corner of a pretty photo.  
Instead of showering her in gifts and sweet nothings, I did things like cleaning the house and wearing my hair down when we went out because she liked me better that way.  
I was subtle in the way that I loved her.  
I turned the frame over and studied her beautiful, grinning face.

_I'm still not over you,_ I told the photo silently. _Shut up,_ I told myself.

But how could I be? It had only been days. We had been engaged. And deep down, I was still Jia.  
But I was also Mulan now. And I was loyal and honest and... loyal. Which meant staying away from Aurora until Phillip returned for her.  
I stopped and took in the room quickly, my head spinning from wall to wall.  
It seemed like Aurora had been staying here alone. The bed was messily made; the duvet had been pulled up, though the sheet was still untucked - a trademark Briar move. And I hadn't noticed a single thing belonging to Phillip.

_There's hope. _

The thought bubbled to my head before I could burst it and I could feel it, spreading. I groaned, pressing a hand gently to my chest, trying to calm myself. I felt the scratchy, grey material under my fingers and was reminded why I was there.  
_Clothes_.  
I'd run out of clean things to wear the night before and had resorted to borrowing Emma's things.  
That was the only reason that I had drummed up the courage to return to the house.  
I dropped the photo frame back onto the drawer and went back to the closet, my heart warming when I saw that Aurora hadn't moved any of my things yet.

_Yet_, I reminded myself, trying in vain to squash the growing optimism inside of me.

I thought that maybe I should set out to find Phillip. And ensure that he was returned to Aurora.  
I promptly shook the idea out of my head, thinking about how horribly difficult it would be to have to not only see them together, but to _put_ them together.  
I tossed as many things into the bag as I could fit and then, in an unexpected fit of love, I ran over to the dresser and I stole the photo. I shouldn't have, because it didn't belong to me. I argued that it was wrong and immoral.

But, as I ran my thumb over the face of the pretty redhead in the photo, I reminded myself of how much I'd lost by being Mulan. Right now, I was being Jia; and she was the kind of person that would take the photo.

* * *

After I'd dropped my things off at Emma's house, I went to The Rabbit Hole, in need of a drink.  
I'd only ever been past before; never inside. It was just as dark and musty as I had expected it to be.  
I ordered a pitcher at the bar, but took it and a glass to a booth in the back corner, not wanting to be approached or talked to.  
I'd gotten through almost the entire pitcher before my plan was crushed.

"What's up?"

My hand curled around my drink protectively as I looked up.

"What do you want, Lucas?"

He sat across from me and my grip on the jug tightened slightly. We'd known each other loosely around Storybrooke; he'd been the town priest - mostly called upon for weddings or christenings. He'd never really had much of a job before Emma came to town - babies were never born and people never got married.

"It's Lancelot, now."

"As in... Sir Lancelot?" I raised my eyebrows, stifling a laugh.

When he nodded, leaning back, I couldn't help myself and burst into laughter, holding my stomach.

"Like you can talk, _Mulan_," he laughed with me.

"I rewatched the cartoon last night," I said, my hand releasing my handle, "For the first time since I was a child. It was pretty spot on; singing and all."

Lancelot laughed noiselessly, his hefty shoulders shaking.

"At least you were never portrayed in a Monty Python movie," he countered, "That guy was an idiot."

"As I recall, he was _the smart one_," I laughed.

"Which isn't saying much. It's weird seeing yourself in popular culture now, isn't it?"

"Tell me about it," I sighed, thinking about how I had downloaded and watched Sleeping Beauty on my laptop just the night before, "Do you want a drink?" I asked, gesturing the nearly empty pitcher in front of both of us, changing the subject.

"No, thanks."

"Are you still a priest?"

He looked taken aback and I realised that I may have sounded like I was hitting on him by asking if he was now... free from the bonds of his priestliness or something?

"I just mean... can you drink and... do other stuff?"

_Well, _that_ didn't make it sound any better._

_"_I guess so," he said, his face still not relaxing out of its' suspicious look, "I haven't really thought about it but I guess I could... I could drink if I wanted. Or... date."

He was a little blurry around his edges at this point, but I could swear that there was a suggestive look on his face.  
Initially, I was repulsed by the thought of him making advances, but once I got around the fact that he wasn't a priest anymore, I thought about it.  
He was funny and tough and clever and very, very handsome.  
He was a kind man. And he'd always treated me so nicely.

"You can stop me if it's too soon after your... split... but I was just wondering, I mean, I've always been quite... taken by you," I'd never heard him trip over words before. I'd stopped in on his sermons occasionally and he'd always been so clear and lyrical in the way that he spoke.

"I'd love to go on a date," I cut off his halting speech. I hadn't even meant to say it - it had just come up. I wasn't even sure if it was true, I just wanted him to stop feeling awkward.

A smile and a blush crept across his dark face. Then he looked to the jug on the table.

"I don't want you to say something that you're going to regret right now," he said, "so I'm still living above the church... you know where you can find me, see me when you're less inebriated. Or... don't. Whichever you want to do, that's what you should... do."

He stood quickly, flushing.

"I'll see you around," he mumbled, grinning and leaving

I was not able to stop the slow smile that spread across my face. My stomach was churning and I felt a little sick so I pushed the jug away and stood as slowly as I could. It took me a few seconds to realise that the ill feeling in my stomach wasn't alcohol, but butterflies.  
As I stood, what I had just drunk swam to my head and I was overtaken with a strange weightlessness.

I wasn't even sure that I wanted to _go_ on this date.  
All I knew, was that my life didn't begin and end with the princess.  
It had seemed like such a foreign concept but now that I was considering it, it didn't just seem a possible conclusion, but the obvious one; I had once had a life outside of her and I could do it again.

* * *

...

* * *

**_Chapter 7:_****_ Part 2 - Wine_**

_Aurora_

I didn't notice for a while. I'd sat on my bed with a packet of crackers and a wheel of cheese.  
I'd forgotten to bring a knife so I was nibbling the rind off with my teeth while I watched baby videos on my laptop.  
I knew something was off, though, but whenever I thought I'd remembered what was new, the idea would slip away instantly.  
It took about an hour before I realised that nothing new had been _added_, but that something was missing.  
She'd taken my frame.  
I knew it was her now because the wardrobe doors had been closed and I always left them open. I rose, tossing the cheese to the side. The entire right side of clothes had been taken.  
I could feel my heart slipping a few places in my chest. I could swear I could feel it there, resting on my stomach.  
She'd waited until I'd gone to work, even, so that she didn't have to see me.  
I reached in and found that a few hangers had slid off their place on the pole and landed on the ground when she'd packed everything away. She'd left a sweater and a few shirts behind.  
I hugged them to me but they were clean and just smelled like our washing liquid.  
I dropped them on the floor and kicked them back in, shutting the doors roughly.

I wanted to know what she'd done with my frame. It was _mine_. She'd made it for me.  
I stopped for a second, wondering if she'd taken it to smash it or throw it out or keep it. And then I realised that it didn't matter; that it was _mine_, and I was filled with sudden rage because I wanted it back.  
I knew that she was staying at Emma's house. So all I needed to do was go there and confront her.  
But I couldn't.  
I couldn't risk going over to see her and feeling something that would make it too difficult to leave her alone.  
She deserved to have a chance at a life outside of me.  
Whatever she'd done with that frame had nothing to do with me now.

I returned to my bed and tucked my knees under my chin.  
I was sick of feeling tossed around in a sea of my own feelings. I could control them, couldn't I? So maybe I could stand up to myself and make a choice and be happy with it. I was over this; this sappy, sad, useless princess routine.  
If Mulan didn't want to be with me; if what she wanted to do was sneak into our room while I was away, then so be it.  
If she couldn't face me, then she didn't deserve me.

That didn't automatically mean that I wanted to be with Phillip. Just that, maybe, I could be on my own for a while.  
And stop treating my loneliness like a punishment.


	8. Taking a Big Step

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is mostly just talking I just wanted to write something that showed Aurora like... letting go of the idea of keeping one of her loves ... at least for now ;)**

* * *

**_Chapter 8:_****_ Taking a Big Step_**

_Aurora_

Red had dragged me out for a walk that morning - insisting that the weather was much too nice to spend the entire day lying on my bed watching turtle videos and listening to that playlist I had on my laptop simply titled ':('.  
She had lied and it was quite freezing, but she was right - it felt good to be out of the house.

"I've seen so many reunions," she was saying, "mothers and children, best friends, lovers; all finding each other after so many years and it's so beautiful to see everyone living out their happy endings finally."

Her voice raised to a sickly sweet note at the end of the sentence and I wanted to push her down the hill that we were passing over. But I held off.

"That's really nice," I said, clasping my hands behind my back.

"It is! We've been getting lots of help. In fact, Mulan's been coming in a lot lately," she cast a side glance at me to watch my response, "Just to help out with the sketches of missing loved ones because she's a pretty talented artist."

"Really?" I was surprisingly untouched by her news. It was almost as if we were talking about someone else; not the person that I'd been in love with at all.

"She's been a big help, actually; been doing several a day," Red said, "She comes in for a few hours and sits down with people and sketches out one every twenty minutes or so."

Jia had always been a great talent when it came to art, but I always thought that she'd been too much of a perfectionist. Every painting and drawing was always a labour of love - meticulously crafted and painfully tailored until every line was the perfect thickness and every brushstroke was even.  
Sometimes she'd been days or even weeks on a piece and then mess up a single stroke and I'd come home to find the canvas had been thrown out.  
I was finding it really difficult to imagine her being satisfied with spending only minutes on a piece. But then, I suppose, she was Mulan now.  
And Mulan had always been the type of woman to put personal preference aside in the line of duty.

"I tried talking to her about you but she just kept changing the subject," Red sighed, "the subjects kept getting weirder until we were talking about torture methods and I felt uncomfortable and left her alone."

I burst out laughing.

"She was probably doing it on purpose," I grinned, "Did she talk to you about the geoduck?"

"Oh, you mean one of the largest species of salt water clam in the world?" Red smirked.

"Yeah, she does this thing when she doesn't want to talk to people, but she doesn't want to be rude; she starts talking extensively about a topic that people usually find either boring or unsettling."

"I see," Red smiled, "I'll take the hint next time."

"Mind if we sit for a while?" I asked, my legs starting to ache.

"Sure," Red said, lowering herself down on the spot. I copied her.

"It's quite beautiful up here," I sighed, casting an eye down at the forest.

"Reminds me of home," Red breathed sadly.

"Would you ever go back?" I asked, looking over at her.

She sighed and shook her head so quickly that I thought she must have already considered it once before.

"I like coming up here and looking down on the forest and remembering what it was like back in the Enchanted Forest," she said softly, as if to herself, "But I love, more than anything, being able to get up from this spot and returning to Granny's."

"Even more than your home?" I asked, shocked.

"I loved being Ruby," she said seriously, her jaw set, "Regina thought she was punishing us by erasing who we were, but I think she underestimated how much crap we wanted to forget."

I could tell that she was thinking about Peter. They'd been in love, once upon a time. They'd planned on running away and seeing the world. But that was before Red turned into the wolf that killed him.

"Ruby was unhappy; that much is true," Red said, turning to me, "But she never knew Peter, and she never lost him. That's a pain that Red has to live with; that _I_ have to live with now. But being here and helping everyone else find their happy endings... it helps me cope with that."

"Sometimes I feel like the curse might have actually been a gift for me."

Red smiled and closed a hand around mine.

"I know what you mean," she mumbled sadly, "But this is who we are now."

"I'm ready to help you at the crisis centre," I said, "If you need me."

Red gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

"That would be wonderful," she smiled, "We should probably get moving before we freeze over."

She stood up quickly, pulling me up with her. We both stayed there for a second, looking over the treetops. I couldn't help thinking that if I stayed up here, I could pretend to be back in Fairytaleland. I could be with Phillip again (if he'd have me) and we could pretend that none of it happened.

"You still wear your ring," Red's voice broke through to me, her eyes fixed on my left hand.

I lifted the ring to my face. Jia's engagement ring still hung to my finger.  
I still took it off when I showered, slept and did the dishes. But when I was done it was always put back.  
I thought that one day, when I was ready, I would take it off before bed and I wouldn't feel the need to slip it back on when I woke up.  
But that day hadn't yet come.

But in that moment, the thought taking it off didn't seem so bad.  
It felt freeing, almost.  
When Red and I had spoken about Mulan that day, I had felt very little. There had been days when thinking about her was painful, but that was over now.  
I slid the ring from my finger and inspected it.  
The person who had given me that ring was gone now. Just as Phillip was no longer himself and was now someone who had been Charlie.  
I didn't really know either of them, so I didn't _really_ love either of them.  
Not anymore.

For a second, I thought about tossing the ring into the wood.  
Letting it fall into one of the branches and being carried off by a bird, drawn in by its sparkle.  
I thought about the beautiful symbolism in hurling it into the air and letting it take all of the love that I had once been so full of.

But then that second passed and instead I slipped it into my right hand, and then into my back pocket.

"That's a big step," Red said.

She understood; she still wore the delicate copper chain that Peter had fashioned for her so many years ago.  
I waited until she was turned away before I slipped my hand back into my pocket, running my fingertips over the ring. I took it out, paranoid that it might fall and be lost forever, and slid it, more securely, into the coin pocket in the front of my jeans, patting it protectively.


	9. Old Friends

_**Chapter 9:**__** Old Friends**_

_Mulan_

My jog had gone on longer than I'd intended and I was running late for work on the morning that I ran into him.  
I saw him first.  
There's a certain power in being the first of two people to see the other.  
I was outside of Emma's apartment, about to get into my car. We usually drove together, but I'd been out the night before and she presumably had assumed that I'd want to sleep in.  
I toyed with the key in my hand, wondering if I should ignore him and get in my car.  
I dug the key into my palm, while I considered it.

"Phillip!" I called without thinking, before I could talk myself out of it.

He stopped at the corner and turned, squinting into the morning sun.

"Mulan?" his voice barely reached me, but I heard him say my name clearly.

He broke into a jog, meeting me at my car in seconds. He didn't slow once he got to me, sweeping me into a hug that all but took me off my feet.  
I laughed loudly into his ear as he enveloped me.  
Phillip had an air around him that took you over and made you happy.  
I'd forgotten how good it felt to be around him. He set me down and took a step back, taking me in.

"It's so good to see you," I breathed, grinning. I hadn't expected it to be, but it was true.

"And you," he smiled back.

There was a soft, comfortable silence.

"How have you been?" he asked eventually.

"Good," I lied, "And you?"

"Fine," he replied.

The silence stretched.

"Have you seen her yet?" the question burst out of me before I could pop it.

He smiled his awkward, crooked grin and fluffed his hair. I knew he was nervous.

"Once," he said, "When the curse first broke. I went to visit her at her house. At... your house."

I swallowed and looked down at my shoes. They were black and had been expertly polished only four days ago but were beginning to dull at the toes again because I had a tendency to walk too quickly and heavily.

"_Her_ house," I corrected, "I moved out."

"Oh," was all he said.

I wanted badly to ask how his visit went, but I didn't want to pry.

"I think it upset me to see her," he said with an awkward laugh, "I'm surprised she didn't tell you that I stopped by."

"I haven't seen her, either, Phillip," I admitted.

"Well, why not?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm not so sure that she'd want to see me."

"How could you know?" he snapped.

"She knows where to find me," I bit back, "If she wanted to see me then she would, wouldn't she?"

The question wasn't rhetorical, but he treated it like it was.  
The air of happiness that had so quickly taken over me left me just as fast.  
There was more silence. This one most uncomfortable of all.

"I'm late for work," I said finally.

"Yeah, me too."

He swept an arm around me and I wished so badly that I could pull away and get in my car.  
But his grip felt so comfortable and familiar.  
I melted into him, throwing my own arms into the hug.  
Up until then, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed having him as a friend.  
Once upon a time I had so much love for him.  
Eventually, we pulled ourselves apart and he kissed me briefly on the cheek, saying goodbye.

I let myself into the car and sat down before I wiped the tears that had settled on my face.

* * *

When I finally got to work, Emma was sitting at her desk, her feet up, chewing loudly.

"Sorry I'm late," I said, walking to my own desk.

"Sorry," Emma mumbled, wiping her mouth and putting away her food.

"Sorry for what?" I asked with a frown.

"The um... crackers?" she cocked her head to the side, watching me.

I laughed and shook my head.

"It's okay," I said, "We're past that stage, now. But thank you for considering my feelings."

There had been a time when Emma had to be careful about her every move - worried that she might set me off and make me angry. There was a time when anything that reminded me of Aurora would infuriate me.  
That meant manicures, redheads, gardens and, yes, even crackers.  
Emma had been very accommodating to my ridiculous requests, but those things were having less of an effect these days.

"Is that why you're wearing your hair loose today?" Emma asked.

I frowned and ran my fingers down the length of my dark hair.  
I had been tying it up lately - sometimes so severely that I had occasional sharp pains in my scalp.  
I'd started doing it because Briar had always liked my hair down, but I hadn't even noticed that I'd started wearing it more loosely lately.

"I guess so," I responded.

"Did your date last night go well, then?" Emma asked with a smirk.

"It was pleasant," I responded curtly, with an air that I hope would put across the idea that I didn't want to speak any more about it.

Dinner with Lancelot the previous evening had been quite enjoyable, but I didn't think that I'd do it again. He was a great man; a good friend. But I couldn't see it being anything more than that.

"I didn't hear you come in last night," she obviously didn't get the hint.

"I came in late," the sigh that left my mouth sounded quite irritable, "We were drinking and talking and lost track of time."

"_Just_ drinking and talking?" Emma sneered.

I rolled my eyes, throwing my bag and myself down behind my desk.  
Emma had become a little different after the curse broke. She had previously always had very good borders of personal space and personal issues; she knew when to approach people and when to back down.  
Lately, under the influence of her parents brand of cloying love, that border dissolved and she overstepped what I felt to be very clear lines.  
I was also especially irritable and unnecessarily emotional after the encounter with Phillip I'd had that morning.

"Okay, okay," she said, raising her hands in surrender, "None of my business, I get it."

I sighed, turning to her.

"I'm sorry for snapping," I said, hoping my apology sounded sincere.

"I'm sorry for prying," she said, "So you don't think you'll go on another date?"

I considered ignoring her, but my outburst had been rude and unfair, and for some reason she wanted to hear about my date, so I guess I owed her some information.

"Not with him," I said simply, "He's very nice and very handsome, but it just doesn't feel..."

I trailed off, shrugging.

"Like that's _it_?"

"Exactly," I breathed, "I don't think he's _'_it'. I don't know if I'll ever be able to find 'it' in this town, actually. Now that I know I can't leave, it's starting to feel a little claustrophobic."

"Well," Emma said, dragging out the 'l' sound rather grandly, as if she had something very important to say, "I don't want this information becoming public, but Gold might just have found a way around that."

"Around what?"

"Leaving Storybrooke."

"What do you mean?"

Emma pursed her lips and made a zipping motion across her mouth.

"This can't get out or everyone will want in on it," Emma said in hushed tones, "But he thinks he has created a spell that will let him cross the red line."

"With all of his memories?"

"All of them."

"How?" I asked, my head spinning.

"Some type of potion and something about an object that was important to him from his old life."

"An object?"

"Yeah, I don't know the details of it, but he wants me to go with him when he crosses the line," Emma continued, "We're going to find his son."

Emma started telling me all about her recent conversations with Gold and where they thought he was and their plans to find him.  
I was half-listening, instead wondering about the red line.  
I thought about crossing it.  
The world was so big and suddenly I was itching to see it.  
Storybrooke seemed much too small for me now. And it seemed to get smaller every day.

I felt trapped.

Maybe it was time to talk to Mr Gold.


	10. Loopholes

**A/N: Let me know if you guys like the direction that the story is taking - I've got a few more plot ideas coming up so the happy ending isn't coming for a little while yet! Let me know if it's getting a little tired and just want me to wrap it up or whatever.  
****Although, they will finally see each other very soon!**

**Also, I'm sorry about the characterisation of Regina in this character, it doesn't really ring true, but I wasn't sure how to write her.  
So she's just... really angry that day or something.**

**Thanks everyone who has been reading and special thanks to those of you who have been reviewing.**

* * *

_**Chapter 10:**__** Loopholes**_

_Mulan_

After Emma had told me about the possibility of leaving town, the idea grew in my mind like a weed.  
I was not usually one to daydream, but I found myself consumed with the idea of finding a home.  
Sometimes, I imagined leaving for a week, sometimes months, and sometimes I found somewhere so beautiful and comfortable that I grow roots and grow old there.  
Eventually, I became so consumed by the idea that I couldn't put it off any longer; I had to visit The Dark One.

The bell to his shop gave a gentle ring as I pushed the door open.

"Hello?" I called, "Gold?"

"He's not here," Regina announced over a small, dusty book, "I've been waiting for hours - he left the door unlocked."

I was unsure about how truthful that last statement had been, and suspected that Regina had magically let herself in, but I kept my thoughts to myself.

"Do you know when he will be back?"

Regina ignored me, turning back to her book.

"I suppose you heard that he found a way to cross the red line?" Regina asked, not looking up.

"How did you know?"

"I figured you'd want to put a bit of distance between yourself and the girl who stopped loving you after she got her memories back," Regina sneered.

It seemed that she was feeling especially unkind that day.

"If you created this town, why wouldn't you create a way out when things got bad?"

"What?" Regina barked.

"That's why you're here, too, aren't you?" I asked, "You need a way out."

"Well... I didn't foresee things getting bad," she explained.

"Someone found a loophole."

"The loophole was written in," she said, annoyed, dropping the small book down on the counter, "Anyway, I _did _write in a way out, it would just be quite unpleasant to see it through."

A sudden thought occurred to me.

"Why did you pair us together?"

"What?" Regina seemed to somehow hiss the 't' noise.

"After the curse hit - why did we end up together?"

"You and Aurora?"

I nodded.

"As if I had time to plan every sad story in this godforsaken town," Regina snapped, "I had no hand in creating your alternate life - these unhappy endings were just assigned at random."

"Then why was I so happy?"

"I don't know," Regina scowled, "Call it a loophole."

"So you had nothing to do with us ending up together in Storybrooke?"

"I could _try_ to care less about your relationship, but I don't think I could manage it," Regina sneered.

"What about Gold? Do you think _he_ wrote in our relationship?"

"I really don't think he'd care," she said in a tone that clearly wanted this conversation to be over.

"But if he _did_ care, could he force us to be in love?"

Regina's laugh was just short of a cackle.

"It's clear that you know nothing about magic, Mulan; no one can _force_ magic."

"Not even me."

Neither I, nor Regina, had heard The Dark One enter.

"I'm so glad you two let yourselves in," he said sarcastically.

Regina caught his eye and made a motion toward his office. Mr Gold ignored her, turning instead to me.

"Come with me, dearie," he said, walking toward the back of the shop, where his office was.

I shot Regina a voiceless apology as Gold ignored her angry outpour.

I followed Gold into his office and took a seat, waiting until he sat, too, before I spoke.

"Why did you pair us together?"

This was suddenly more important than even leaving.

"Ah, well you see, it was meant to be a _loveless_ marriage," Gold said, with an odd and unnecessary flourish of his hands at the word 'loveless', "You and Aurora were meant to feel the bond of friendship and loyalty that I knew you had for each other, and that was meant to give you both a sense of debt; a sense of _obligation_," another flourish, "but you were ultimately meant to be unhappy. I had no idea at the time about your... true feelings, although they became apparent the first time I saw you together in Storybrooke."

I was suddenly self-conscious of my hands. What were they meant to do? I folded them uselessly in my lap.

"Why didn't you try to break us up once you saw that I was really in love?" I asked.

"I didn't really care," he said, the 'r's in his sentence rolling musically, "Regina was the one who wanted everyone to be unhappy."

"Well, I'm unhappy now," I said. My hands dropped to my side and I looked Mr Gold squarely in the eye, "I heard you were leaving town."

Leaving was the most important thing again.  
Gold sighed, his eyes rolling back.

"I thought that Emma could be trusted to keep a secret."

"She told only me," I said.

"That's one person too many."

"I want to come with you," I said.

"I'm sure you do."

"Gold," I used his name like a plea.

He sighed and shrugged.

"I don't even know if the spell will work."

"Let me try," I said desperately, "I'll go through first."

"I don't think I have enough to get two people through."

"You don't _think_?" I asked, "So you don't _know_?"

He sighed again, but seemed to be thinking it over.

"You're not worth the risk," he said finally.

"I saved Belle's life, once," I said, ashamed that I was using my friendship with Belle as a playing card in this instance, but I had no choice, "in a way, you are in my debt."

"How?" he asked slowly.

"She was tracking a Yaoguai," I said, it had been a while since I'd thought of it, "it attacked her. Later, I found her again, being approached by a team of men. I fought them off."

Gold paced the room slowly, eventually turning to me and giving a lazy shrug.

"I owe you nothing," he said, "We never made any arrangements."

"She would be dead if it weren't for me," I growled, my eyes narrowing, "you owe me _everything._"

Gold seemed to hold steady to his apathy, shaking his head with a light laugh on his lips.  
Then he turned to me.

"I'm not promising anything," he said slowly, "But you may want to pack a bag."


	11. Love, Not Duty

**_Chapter 11:_****_ Love, Not Duty_**

_Aurora_

When I was a child, my mother instilled in me a very strong feeling of duty.

"_As a princess_," she'd said, "_You must make everyone around you as comfortable and content. The kingdom will be your life and your life will be your kingdom. _You_ will not be happy unless _your kingdom _is happy._"

As Briar, I'd forgotten this conversation, but not the lesson.  
Even in Storybrooke, I still lived to satisfy the people around me.  
Any need that I had would be ignored because others had problems.

Jia was different.

She had no sense of duty, or owing. You did things out of _love, _not debt.  
When she did something for someone, it was out of honour or respect or love, not out of some long-ago learned lesson that you owed yourself to everyone.  
She taught me to stop giving every little piece of myself to everyone.  
She taught me to keep pieces to myself.  
Unfortunately, over time, I gave those pieces to her. And without her, at first, I'd felt empty.  
But I was learning.  
I was learning to be myself, and who that was.

All of those lessons were about to come undone.

There was a sharp, familiar knock at the back door. The curtness and force of the knock, paired with the fact that the person had used the back door, let me know exactly who it was.

"Mulan," I breathed, pulling the door open quickly.

She smiled in response. A timid, shy smile that I had missed so much.  
I opened the door a little wider and let her in.  
I was sure that I saw her eyes flicker towards my ring finger. And then I was sure I saw a look of pain flash across her face.  
But then I might have been imagining it.  
I might have just wanted it.

Mulan wasn't wearing hers, either, but she often took it off in the middle of the day or didn't put it on in the morning.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, "Thirsty?"

Mulan shook her head no.

"I've just eaten," she said.

It was a habit of hers; to make a meal and make sure she'd drunk enough before she went to another person's house, lest she impose and inconvenience them enough to make her something to eat or drink.  
It hurt me a little to face the fact that I was now part of that 'another'. I was now Mulan's other. I was no longer hers.

"Do you mind if I make myself some tea?" I asked.

She shook her head again and lead the way into the kitchen.  
I set the kettle and, ignoring her, set out two cups out on the bench.  
In case she changed her mind.

"Where have you been?" I asked softly, avoiding her glance.

"I've been staying at Emma's," she explained.

I knew that. And it wasn't what I meant.

"_Why_ have you been away?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"It was a lot to process," she looked down at her shoes, "I needed space. I thought you might, too."

I hated when she looked at her feet. She was a tough, strong woman. But every now and then she'd be transformed by anxiety into a small, nervous girl. She knew it upset me to see her feel like that.  
I knew what it was like to feel small.

"You could have asked me what I needed," I said, keeping my tone soft, trying to tease her out of the uneasy state that she sometimes found herself in.

"I'm sorry," she said, her eyes lifting off of her feet and finding mine, "I'm really sorry."

We were both quiet for a moment and I was glad for the bubbling sound of water that was filling the silence.

"How have you been?" I asked.

"Good," she said.

I studied her.  
She was fighting to say something, I could see it in her face. I stayed quiet now, waiting for her to work up the nerve to say whatever she needed to.  
The gentle 'click' of the kettle told me that it was done boiling so I turned my attention back to that.  
I placed two tea bags into each mug, deciding on plain peppermint.  
Then I poured the hot water into the first cup.

"I'm leaving for a little while," Mulan burst out.

My head flicked to her with a frown.  
The water poured painfully out over the hand that was holding the mug.

"Ow!" I screeched, shaking the water off of myself.

Mulan reached over for the tap, flicking it on quickly, and tested the temperature before she took my hand and pushed it under the running water.

"Here," she mumbled.

"It's not that bad," I said, snatching it away from her.

It was throbbing painfully but it seemed to burn more from where she'd touched me.

"What do you mean you're leaving?" I asked.

"Gold thinks that he's found a way out of here," she said, wiping her own now wet hands onto her pants.

"Out of... you mean Storybrooke?" I asked.

"He's created a potion," she explained.

"So you will keep all of your memories?"

"In theory."

"And you want to go?" I asked, hating the desperate tone that had sneaked its way into my voice.

"I do."

I could see that she was trying to remain as emotionless as possible, but her eyes were betraying her. She wanted to leave, but she was afraid. She was sad.  
I decided that I wasn't going to make it any harder for her.

"Then that's great."

She smiled and nodded, giving me a gentle bow.  
My approval had been important to her, I saw that now.

"I brought you something," she said, reaching into the satchel I now noticed hanging off her hip, "I'm sorry for taking it."

My beautiful frame.  
It was still intact, still shining.  
I grinned.

"I thought you'd destroyed it."

"Why would I do that?" she asked with a frown.

"I don't know."

_Why would you leave me without a word?_ I wanted to say, _Why did you ignore me? Who knows why you do anything?_

"Thank you for bringing it back," I said.

She gave me a sad smile.

"When do you leave?" I asked.

"Tonight," she said, her smiling falling away, "Sometime after six, I think."

I could hear an invitation in that last sentence, but I ignored it.  
There was no way that I was going to the town line to watch her leave me.

"How long will you be away?" I asked.

"I don't know," she sighed, "I think that I might try to find a place on the outside that feels like home."

"Oh."

There was a time when Jia leaving me, maybe forever, would feel worse than death.  
Now, it was just a crushing ache in my chest and a lightness in my head.

I think she could sense that I was seconds away from falling apart, because she took a step forward and wrapped herself around me.

"I'm going to miss you," she said into my hair.

She tried to separate from me, but I made her stay for a second longer so I could pull myself together and she wouldn't see the pain in my eyes when she pulled away.

She surprised me with a kiss on the cheek before she smiled and turned away.

"Goodbye," she mumbled, shuffling quickly.

_I love you_, I thought, watching her leave.

I took a few deep breaths until I had calmed down and the tears left my eyes and my head completely.  
But then I heard the door shut and the matching mugs on the counter and I doubled over as if I had been hit.

I had come to terms that I might not be with Mulan again, but I had come to terms with it as an _idea_. Now it was a reality and it came at me with such force that it caused me physical pain.  
I cried until I couldn't breathe and I felt dizzy from it.

I picked up the frame off of the counter and tossed it across the room.  
It shattered and sprayed glass across the floor.  
The photo flew, still unharmed, from the mess, and landed metres away.  
The happy faces stared up at me from the floor.


	12. Go and Get Her

******A/N: I actually wrote the next two chapters like a week ago but then they got deleted and I lost my mind but I'm back and writing them out again (not as well because I'm kind of over them now), but I cannot bring myself to double check grammar or spelling errors because I am so done with these chapters so sorry for any mistakes, let me know if you find some pls? :3  
Hope you like the following chapters!**

_**Chapter 12:**__** Go and Get Her**_

_Phillip_

In the first second that I laid eyes on Aurora, I noticed the fire of defiance in her eyes.  
She was wearing some puffy abomination of a dress and her hair had been tightened into the most ridiculous curls, but it was her eyes that I noticed first. Even at nine years old, they flashed with power and willfulness.  
And although she'd clearly been dressed by her mother, and forced into this marriage by her father, she told me, completely without words, that she was in charge. She told me that she would be my wife, without being my beloved. That I could have her body and her presence, but that her soul and her heart were completely her own.  
I thought that I could disarm her with charm and humour, but she held to her disliking of me. I had to earn a place in her heart.  
I fought for it.  
And once there, I made a home.

I should have known better than to make myself comfortable in the heart of a human being, but I was young. And she was the kindest, smartest, bravest and most sincere person that I knew.  
She made it so easy to feel safe. I felt that nothing would ever tear us apart.

There was a dark magic that was capable of tearing a heart from his body.  
I didn't know what that felt like, but I imagined that what I was feeling was much worse.  
At least without a heart, the pain would be muted. Instead of being torn out, my heart was shattered.

Looking at Mulan, as she stand in my doorway, I felt like I was looking in a mirror.  
Even with the forced smile on her face; I could tell. She was hurting just as much as I was.

"Hi," I smiled, snaking her into a hug.

As soon as her head hit my shoulder, she burst into tears. I gripped her a little harder, but she was already pulling herself back together. When she pulled away, she wiped her face roughly and she was fine again.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

I showed her in and motioned toward a chair at the kitchen table. She waited until I sat to take her own seat.

"I'm leaving," she said before I'd even pushed my chair in.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm leaving," she repeated, "Storybrooke."

"How?" I asked, "When?"

"There's a potion that will help me retain my memories," she explained, "I'm leaving tonight."

I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head.

"Well I wish you good luck and good fortune," I said, unsure what else I was meant to say.

"I wanted to say goodbye to you, but I also wanted to ask you a favour," she paused, biting down gently on her lip, "I need someone to watch over Aurora; someone that loves her and will watch her closely."

"Watch her?" I echoed.

"Make sure she's happy, Phil," she'd never used that nickname before, and it sounded odd coming from her. It seemed not to work for her either, I noticed, as her face contorted a little, almost as if it had a strange taste to it.

I gave a mirthless laugh.

"Happy?" I copied her words again.

She looked at me, and gave a gentle nod.

"I know that you don't owe me anything but I just... I need to know that she has someone looking out for her."

"She has plenty of friends," I spat, "I don't think she needs her ex-husband hanging around and making her feel guilty and uncomfortable."

Mulan looked down at her hands in her lap, her fingers twisting into each other.  
I regretted making her feel uncomfortable, but I was only being honest. The whole situation was absurd and being around Aurora was just upsetting for the both of us.  
It was clear to me that I was not the person that she wanted to be with.  
And, to be frank, it angered me a little that Mulan expected me to follow her around like a lovesick puppy, ensuring her safety and pining after a happy ending that didn't belong to me anymore.  
It annoyed me that she wanted me to force myself to keep an eye out for a girl that I loved too much.

"I thought you'd be fit to carry out the task," she said stiffly, "After all I thought you loved her."

"I _do_ love her!" I shouted, suddenly at my feet, "_You're_ the one that's leaving her."

"Not by choice!" she barked back.

"By whose choice, then?" I asked, my voice poison.

"I can't keep seeing her around," Mulan moaned. She looked suddenly small and miserable. "I always see her first and I have to leave meals half-eaten at Granny's and crawl out the door under the tables. I have to hide behind books in the library, behind clothing or stalls in shops. I never go within six blocks of her home or her work. The other day I had to hide behind a bush because I heard her and Red approaching when I was taking a run in the woods. It's getting pathetic and this town is getting too small. And I can't do it anymore."

"Then why don't you just face up to her?" I asked, "Why don't you just wave from your table and finish your food?"

"I couldn't stand it," she said, staring into space, "I can't stand seeing her and knowing that she's not mine, anymore."

"Have you explained that to her?" I asked, sinking back into my seat.

She looked down at her feet. It was a trait that I recognised from when we were younger; I thought she'd long outgrown it. It made her look so small, fragile and young again.

"I've been to see her. I've said goodbye."

"But you haven't told her what you've just told me."

"No."

"Do you think you should?" I asked.

Mulan looked up at me and shook her head.

"Please just tell me you'll look out for her, Phil."

This time, the nickname fell out of her as easily as a breath.

"Of course," I sighed.

* * *

FILELR

Aurora opened the door with a friendly smile, sweeping me up into a hug and welcomed me inside.

I declined her offers of something to eat or drink and followed her into the kitchen.

"Sorry about the mess," she said simply, "I was just cleaning up."

Aurora was crouched down next to the wall, picking pieces of glass out of the carpet. I glanced around.  
From the evidence, it seemed like Aurora had thrown a picture at the wall with incredible force.  
It seemed almost impossible that such a mess could come from an average sized glass frame.  
I watched her, with her gentle smile, and thought about the casual way that she'd greeted me at the door, when she'd clearly just gone through some extreme emotional turmoil.  
It reminded me of our very first encounter; of the girl with the flashing eyes. It reminded me that no matter what happened in Aurora's life, that she was always the one in charge -even when the battle for control was with her own emotions.

I bent and found the photo that must have been in the frame.

It caused me the strangest sensation in my heart to see Mulan and Aurora so happy together.  
It was an odd mixture of being glad that they were capable of being so contented together, but then betrayal at the fact that they had found such bliss without me.  
I placed the picture down on the kitchen table and sighed.

"Mulan came to visit me," I said, "To say goodbye."

Aurora pursed her lips and brushed some crumbs of glass into an open piece of newspaper.

"How are you?" I asked.

"Better," she said simply.

"Better than what?"

"Than the girl that threw her favourite thing at the wall."

The honesty of her answer threw me off. I'd expected her to create a vague answer that didn't really answer anything.  
It also hurt me more than I cared to admit that she'd just called a photograph of her and Mulan her 'favourite thing'.

"Why don't you go and see her?" I asked, "She leaves soon, but you still have time to say goodbye."

"We already said goodbye."

"Properly," I growled.

I hadn't meant for my voice to take on such a harsh tone, but I hated that I had to be this person; that I had to fight for a happy ending that I would never get to be a part of.

I gulped and sighed.

"She still loves you."

Aurora scoffed and wrapped the newspaper into a ball and carried it to the bin.

"She used to," she said, tossing it down roughly.

"You should go and see her," I insisted, "You need to tell her how you really feel."

"She deserves to move on."

I couldn't understand why she was making this so difficult. I was trying to do something good. I was trying to reunite them. It was so difficult to not only give her up, but to give her away.  
And here she was, making it even bloody harder.

"She doesn't _want_ to move on," I argued, "Rora, she wants _you_!"

I took a deep breath, trying to pretend that forcing the girl that had once been my true love wasn't crushing my heart into pieces so small that you could breathe them in.

"And you want her."

I closed the space between us and took her wrists in my hands, forced her to look me in the eye.

"I know that we can never be together. I know that now. But something good could come out of this."

Aurora slipped her wrists out of my grip so that her hands fell into mine.  
The next sentence would be the most difficult.  
I couldn't look her in the eye anymore, so I leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, my lips barely grazing on her forehead.  
I regretted the decision immediately, breathing in her hair.  
I held my breath and spoke quickly.

"Go and get her."


	13. Of Course I Do

**A/N: It's a shortish one, but lots of stuff happens in this chapter; it's loosely based on the events that happen at the end of the episode 'The Outsider', when Gold and Belle are at the town line and are interrupted by Hook and then again by the car that comes in from outside of Storybrooke.  
It might get a little confusing and the storyline gets a bit cluttered, so sorry for that but... here we go!**

_**Chapter 13:**__** Of Course I Do**_

_Aurora_

By the time I got into my car, I was shaking, Phillip's words repeating in my head; '_go and get her... goand get her... goand gether... goandgether..._'  
The words seemed to beat in time with my heart, quickening as it did.

I was excited. I was nervous. I was scared.

I was happy by myself; I really was. I could have coped with the reality of living without Mulan.  
But I didn't _have_ to.  
I'd spent such a long time berating myself for allowing myself to become so deeply attached and reliant on someone. I'd become so tangled up in my life with Jia that I couldn't tell where I ended and she began. And I had been punishing myself for it.  
But in that moment, as I drove down the dark streets of Storybrooke, checking the speed every three seconds to make sure I didn't get too excited and go over, I let all of the guilt and resentment toward myself go.  
It was okay to love someone else; especially when that someone was as brave, loyal and kind as Mulan.  
And if Phillip was right, then we would be together again.

My eyes drifted over to check my speed again. With a gentle exhale, I lifted my foot off of the gas a little more, slowing the car.  
I was trying not to check the time.  
Mulan was leaving soon and I had less than minutes to get to the red line.  
If I checked the time and saw that I was running late, I might go faster than I needed to. And I had never been a particularly good driver, especially at night.

"Better late than never," I reminded myself, keeping my eyes on the road.

I had to drive safely. I had to drive slowly. I had to drive safely. I had to... make it to Mulan on time.

I pressed down on the gas and gripped the steering wheel tightly.  
As I rounded the corner, I found Rumplestiltskin's car was parked awkwardly, across both lanes.  
I slammed down on the brakes and came to a stop within inches of his vehicle.  
I took a quick breath and squinted towards the line.

I could see Gold and Belle in an embrace. They must have been saying goodbye.  
Mulan and Emma hovered awkwardly nearby.  
I unclipped my seatbelt and threw myself from the car, running in her direction.

"Mulan!" I shouted.

She turned and saw me. Her face relaxed into the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.  
But then something behind me caught her attention.

"No!" she shouted.

I turned to see a man in black behind me, a pistol in his hand.  
Before I could react, he fired his gun once.  
The shot was meant for Belle, or perhaps Rumple, it happened too quickly for me to see.  
What I did see was Mulan dive for Belle, shoving her out of the way. The shot made its way past all of them; hitting no one.  
But then Mulan lost her footing and tumbled.

"No!" I screamed.

"Aurora!" she shouted, as she slipped backward, beyond the red line.

I began running toward her, my heart in my throat, when I felt someone lace an arm around my stomach and pull me aside, just as a car made its way through the town line, crashing directly into the man with the gun.  
I looked up to find that it was Belle that had saved me from also getting hit by the car.  
I was grateful, but I threw her off all the same, running to where Mulan was.  
She must have hit her head, as Rumple was cradling her.

"Stop!" he shouted, pointing down at my feet.

I looked down to find my toes resting on the line.

"Did you give her the potion before she crossed?" I asked urgently.

"I did," he said. My heart lifted a little, trying to ignore the apologetic tone that his voice had taken on.

"But she didn't take them item across with her as she fell."

He pointed to something on my side of the line. I walked over to it and bent to pick it up. It was Mulan's sword.

"Would the magic work without it?" I asked.

"I doubt it," he said softly. He lifted Mulan gingerly and carried her back over to my side, a little more roughly than I would have liked. "She's hit her head," he said, resting his hands on top of her. A glow radiated from his palms and Mulan began to stir.

Rumple left us then, joining Belle and Emma, who were now huddled around the foreign car that had struck the shooter.

Mulan opened her eyes slowly, blinking several times.  
I laughed too loudly, happy that she was coming around, and that she was in my arms.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded.

"What happened?" she asked, her throat hoarse.

"You fell."

She groaned and tried to sit up.

"No," I insisted, "Stay down for a second."

She obeyed. I ran a hand through her hair, my eyes welling up.  
I had to ask her. I knew I did.  
But I just wanted to enjoy this moment for one more second.  
I wanted to live in a world where we loved each other and things weren't about to get even more complicated.  
But then I let that second go.

"Do you know who you are?" I asked, my voice cracking.

She laughed too quickly, the corners of her eyes crinkling.  
And she brought her hand over to mine, squeezing the tips of my fingers gently, like she used to, and I already knew her answer.

"Of course I do, Briar."


	14. The Fourth of April

**A/N: I wrote this anniversary scene ages ago because I was desperate to see the two be happy(ish) together and then I really just wanted to incorporate it into a proper chapter so that's where this next bit came from.  
Not too sure how time works in Storybrooke, but this is just my take on it.  
Thanks for the reviews and follows, guys, I promise I'll try and make them a bit happier from now on. This whole sad and lonely thing is getting a bit tired.**

_**Chapter **__**14:**__** The Fourth of April**_

_Aurora_

I brought Jia back home with me and told myself that I'd explain the whole situation to her later.  
I didn't have the energy to lose her twice in one day.

"The last thing I remember is being back in my room," she was saying as she walked back into the room with only a towel wrapped around her, "I think I was painting..."

I sighed and leaned back into the pillows.

"Just go to sleep, my love," I said, "We can put the pieces together in the morning."

"I _was_ painting," she said, "You were making dinner."

I sighed again and pulled myself up.

"Do you remember that day?" she asked, "How long ago was that?"

"I'm really tired," I snapped, "And if you're going to keep talking then I think I'm just going to sleep in the lounge."

"Briar!" Jia yelped, as if I'd struck her.

I hadn't meant to bark at her, but I was mad. Not at Mulan, or at Jia, but at the mess that my life had become.  
Jia pulled her pyjamas on and shook the towel off of her head.

"I don't know why you don't want to help me figure this out," she said angrily, "I don't understand why you don't care that I have this terrifying chunk of memory missing."

"You hit your head," I spat, "You'll be fine, we'll talk about it in the morning."

I didn't want to share a bed with her. I felt like a little kid who was cheating at a game. I was lying to her and tricking her.  
She loved and slept next to Briar and I wasn't her.  
I leaned forward, dropping my head into my hands.  
I felt Jia place herself next to me.

"What's going on?" she sounded nervous.

"It's been the longest day," I said gently, "I promise we can talk in the morning."

Jia nodded reluctantly and slid in to the bed next to me. Her hair was still wet and I'd probably wake up with a soggy pillow.  
I used to complain about it, but it didn't seem to matter to me then. Not even a little bit.  
I found myself enjoying having her back next to me, despite trying not to.  
I slung an arm under her neck and pulled her closer to me. Her wet little head nuzzled into my chin and I gave a sad smile, trying to keep my breathing even.

"I really love you," I whispered.

"I know," she whispered back.

I felt tears sting my eyes, staring at the wall.

I found myself wondering what would have happened if I didn't say Phillip's name immediately upon waking.  
I wondered what would have happened if I'd just bitten the bullet earlier and visited Mulan at Emma's house.  
I wondered what would have happened if the curse had lifted gradually instead of all at once, as it had.

We could have been happier. We could have avoided all of this so easily.

I found myself remembering one night, before the curse broke, when Jia came home to me, rambling about memories.

* * *

I'd leaned back on the couch and checked the time again. It was nearing seven.  
I sighed and dropped my phone on the ground.  
Jia should have been home at least an hour ago.  
I'd prepared her favourite dinner of crumbed fish and sweet potato salad.  
I always did.  
She'd pretended that morning that she'd forgotten what the date was.  
She always did.

It was the fifth anniversary of the morning that I'd rolled over in bed and asked if she wanted to be my girlfriend properly.

We celebrated our fifth anniversary every fourth of April in Storybrooke.  
Just like we celebrated my twenty-third birthday every year in November.  
And Jia celebrated her twenty-fifth every May.

I never questioned it until Jia came home that night.

"Where've you been, my love?" I asked as she slunk into the room.

She said nothing, her back against the wall and an untraceable look in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked urgently, sitting up.

She nodded unconvincingly and I rushed to her side, checking her temperature.  
She was warm, which, admittedly, was odd for Jia, but she didn't feel unwell.

"What's wrong?"

"When did we meet?" she asked, staring at the wall for a second.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at her like she was being ridiculous.

"Think about it, Briar, please just... please."

I sighed and crossed my arms, but did it anyway.  
I thought for a second, the answer not quite in my reach.  
At times, I thought I could answer her; could feel it on the tip of my tongue and then it would dissolve away and I was left with a blank.  
No. A haze.  
My mind was filled with a weight that was thick and foggy. Like steam that was the consistency of honey.  
I should have felt worried about it, but the curse drained me of all suspicion. Instead, for some reason, made me laugh.

"You know, I don't remember," I said finally, with a pleasant smile.

Jia looked up at me seriously.

"Shouldn't we remember something like that?"

I sighed and took her hand.

"Are you mad?"

"No, Briar, I don't think it's your fault I... Graham came in to work this morning asking me all sorts of questions," Jia looked frantic, "Asking about the past and things and I mentioned our anniversary and -"

"Oh, so you _did_ remember," I teased.

"He asked me what we did last year," she ignored me, "Bri, I can't remember what we did last year. I can't remember further back than maybe four months ago - it just turns to fog and -"

"Hey!" I burst out with a laugh, "That's what's happening to me when I try to remember."

"Really?" she asked, desperate to stop feeling insane.

"Of course," I said, taking her other hand, "It's just a trick of the mind or something; proof that we're getting old."

I took a hand up to her face and tilted her chin so she met my eyes.

"I feel like I'm going crazy," she told me with so much worry in her face.

It pained me to see her so upset. So confused. I pulled her to me and gave her a rough squeeze.

"It sounds like nothing to me," I told her, pulling away, "But you're clearly upset about it and if we wake up tomorrow and you still feel like this, we can call Dr Hopper and make you an appointment."

"I sound normal?" she asked.

"Almost never," I teased with a laugh.

She laughed with me and yanked me back into the hug.  
Without knowing it, I had just pulled her away from the brink of the curse's reach and back into my arms.

"I love you," she chuckled into my ear.

* * *

I turned to Jia now and kissed her head.

"Jia?"

"Mm?" she hummed.

"How did we meet?" I asked, trying my best to keep the tears out of my voice.

She hummed a little more, thinking.

"I..."

My heart seized in my chest.

"I don't remember," she said finally.

I pulled a hand up to my mouth to cover the sob that bubbled from my throat. I composed myself quietly then nodded.

"Okay," I lied, "That's okay."


End file.
